


The Air You Breathe is a Gift

by ladywolf



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: :(, Abuse of Authority, Blood and Gore, Gen, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 02:28:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6311521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladywolf/pseuds/ladywolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How could I pretend to be a victim when I was so willing to sin?”<br/>— 	Emily M. Danforth, The Miseducation of Cameron Post</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Air You Breathe is a Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SergeantPixie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SergeantPixie/gifts).



 

Carlos settled in her arms until his crying turned to silence; draped on her bosom like a baby. Out of the corner of his eye, were the petrified faces of his deceased comrades. "Diosa, is there truly no way to set you free?"

Santanico turned away, stared at the ceiling and the floor. Gently, he touched her face and returned her gaze to him. “The only way is blocked. We cannot go through.” She said.  
“Show me the way.”  
“Carlos we can’t—“  
“Show me.”

 

Santanico hesitantly marched forward; and Carlos followed behind. Eventually, he was at her side as they made their way down to the labyrinth. She slowed and then stopped, from reluctance to refusal. “We can’t go any further.”  
Carlos continued ahead of her, “Is this the way?”  
“Yes, but you can’t go in there, you’ll never make it out!” But he proceeded forward, and she called for him, again and again. Santanico bit her lip, paced around for a few seconds, then went after him—closing a door behind her. “Carlos?”

The walls started to narrow in around her; constricted her until she was on her knees, barley crawling through into a cavernous room. “Carlos?”

Santanico heard faint footsteps and chased after them to step into something wet and thick; and she knelt down into an endless ocean of blood. Flies buzzed around her, accompanied by the smell of rotting flesh.

She swatted them away and caught sight of a mountain of maimed bodies—fingers, hands, legs, and heads. The display quickened her heart and awakened a hunger with quivering lips; but a scream laid wait in her mouth. As she approached the pile of mangled corpses—an awaiting buffet—she heard an awful noise. Her eyes faced the sound and saw a monster digging though the flesh, gobbling it up, their entire body covered in blood. Distant screams began in the darkness and echoed around her.

“You remember me don’t you?” The creature stunned her with it’s spoken words. It was him; her first kill, a stargazer brought to her temple. Any and all predatory desire left her in that instant. The voracious need to be full was gone and something worse took it’s place. “Of course you do.”

Starring at him, she only saw his death, over and over again. His life flashed before her eyes. His pain, his suffering—peeling skin and flesh from bone—as she ate him alive. “Why did you do it? Why did you let them do it?”  
She tried to speak but couldn’t. He pointed to the slain surrounding her, butchered bodies now screaming and reaching to touch her.  
“Look what you did to them.”  
Santanico was frantic, finding nowhere to run from the cadavers swallowing her up.  
“You are the same as the monsters who put you here, you always were.” The countless hands and screams covered her in blood.  
“Why did you let them do it!”

The last thing she saw was his chest completely gone, missing, like a canon blew threw it. In that moment, the scream waiting so patiently in her finally broke free. It was deafening, and still incomparable to the howls and wails of the souls consuming her, veiling her in pandemonium.

 

 Carlos had her by the shoulders. She was sweating, crying, and struggling to breathe.  
“Diosa! Diosa can you hear me? Are you alright?”  
“We need to go,” she said before she collapsed in his arms.

 

* * *

 

 

Santanico woke up safe in her chamber, Carlos right by her side—attached to her at the hip. She tried to sit up; but he nudged her back down. “How are you feeling mi Diosa?”

She sighed heavily, met with his unwavering gaze. “You can never go back there, Carlos.”

He took her hand gently—directing his body, his mind and soul to her attention. “What did you see?”

Santanico hesitated; skipped words with a breath. “You must leave.”

“I—?” Carlos shook his head and lowered her hand. “¿Que estas diciendo?” _What are you saying?_  
Santanico sat up and bowed her head. “He will come.”  
He rose to his feet and reached for the sheath on his armor. “Who?”

How she wished for a way not to tell him, to keep this secret, but his life was in danger and it was her fault. “My captor…he is on his way.” Santanico studied Carlos as he walked away from her, pausing in the middle of the room.  
Finally, he turned an ear, “How do you know?”  
“Because,” she could sense him and he could see her. He was always there in her mind; and she was never safe. She could never hide from him; but that was another truth she couldn’t bare to tell.

Carlos returned to Santanico on her altar and replaced his hand over hers. Earnestly, and decidedly locking her eyes before he spoke. “Diosa, you can tell me w—“  
“He will kill you if he sees you here…with me.”  
"I have died for you once already Diosa. I would do it again…”  
Carlos leaned into her without breath—poised to her lips. “A thousand times.”  
Santanico started to close her fist, but he tenderly cradled her hand so that it shut tight around his thumb.  
She closed her eyes; and he kissed her, delicate but firm.

 

* * *

 

Carlos and Santanico waited side by side at the main entrance when he arrived.  A shadowed man, with a hat to cover his face and a twinkle in his eyes to mask his heart, appeared in the door way. 

“Entonces, es cierto. You've adopted a pet.” He said.

Santanico walked away from Carlos, towards the south wall, as the charming stranger approached her. “I didn’t mean to—“

“Shhh…" He kissed her forehead, delicate and slow, then turned his attention back to Carlos. “And he's a Spaniard!"

Santanico watched the distance between Carlos and her captor shrink. 

“Did you come here with Cortes? Where is he now I wonder.” A charming smile turned his face.  

"I am a soldier, my Lord. My loyalty is true.” Carlos stood firm at attention, even while his love’s captor hunted him.

"You killed all your men—and you expect me to trust your loyalty?” He almost laughed, dark and handsome, taking grander steps to stare Carlos dead in the face. 

"I did it for her…for this.” Carlos said.

“Come.” Malvado walked past Carlos, prompting him to follow. Santanico watched them leave together, out into the dusk desert. The two men spoke briefly before returning inside. 

 

Malvado traipsed over to Santanico and stood behind her, laid his hands softly on her shoulders. Carlos headed toward them, watched him handle her, caress her. He was but arm’s reach when Malvado gripped the nape of Santanico’s neck, brought her down, and kissed her—pressed the back of her head to his mouth and kept her there until Carlos looked away.

Malvado whispered in her ear, “I’ll return before you know it,” and with that he took his leave. 

He rode away on his white horse, relinquishing them of his presence only for now. Carlos refused to look away, grating his teeth until Malvado was out of sight.

 

 

 

"What did he say to you?”

“Qué?”

Santanico gently brushed his arm and linked it to hers, “What did Malvado tell you?”

Carlos consented her embrace and brought her closer. “He told me I can stay and…” Even then, his sight remained on the door, “and I must watch over you.” 

 

* * *

 

The sun was setting on the horizon outside the temple. Carlos could see its reflection set in Malvado’s eyes. “What did you think coming here, you were going to be her hero? Is that what she told you?”

“I—“

“Don’t speak.” Malvado stalked him and scoured his face. “It’s very simple, Carlos.” The Lord with fixed eyes, and attention entirely on the conquerer, said, “She belongs to me.” 

Carlos was stone, played surrender.

Malvado looked him up and down, smiled and turned away. “And now—you belong to me too.” 

Carlos exhaled sharply, turning too to the Western sun. “At your service, my Lord.”


End file.
